Aberdeen! Its a long way from anywhere...
I'm i/c travel arrangements and come up with a cunning plan . I buy a Saver ticket from Newark to Aberdeen on the old GNER line, Lizzy buys one from Newcastle to Aberdeen - Savers allow you to break your journey on your return journey, so we can take in Edinburgh and Glasgow on the way back down, with the trip culminating in Newcastle. Four gigs in five nights - hmmm.
Wednesday dawns and I set off for Newark, about 20 miles from Nottingham, and leave the car in the station carpark - hope it's still there next Monday. I've got the trusty Argos tripod, and a suitcase full of aging rock-chick type gear. One train up to Newcastle, where Lizzy is waiting, and we set off again to Aberdeen. Its a terrific journey - when I was a child my family lived in a house right next to the Newcastle to Edinburgh railway line about 5 miles out from Newcastle - and there it is! Then up the Northumberland Coast, lots of castles, through Berwick and the ramparts and on up to Edinburgh. Over the Forth Bridge, on up the coast through Dundee, Montrose and finally at about 5pm we're at Aberdeen. It gives the impression of being a very solid place, they don't call it the Granite City for nothing. Not very warm in the middle of February however.
We're staying at the Premier Lodge right opposite the venue - a short walk through the rather grandiose streets and we're there. We check in - all of the other residents would appear to be oilmen straight off the rigs apart from us. We've arranged to meet Old Man (George) from the Love message board so after we've sussed out the venue, we go to a local pub where we've arranged to meet him and his family - they're at the gig tonight as well. One of the brilliant things about getting involved with the band has been meeting some great people from all over the country. We're tucking into beef lasagne when George (a committed vegan) arrives.
Back to the venue, which is run by some of the friendliest people you could ever wish to meet - God Bless you Marge! Its a great show, we return the camera to Bent and chat with folks at the end before heading off back to the hotel - a little too early we learn the following night, as Arthur deigns to come out and press the flesh with the fans after we've left, something he doesn't do too often. Not to worry - there's time for that yet.
The next day looking around Aberdeen and then travelling to Edinburgh is great - Lizzy's diary gives all the gen so I won't repeat it all here. Needless to say it was one of the funniest train journeys I've ever had.
Monday, March 07, 2005
Sunday, March 06, 2005
No 7: Northampton Roadmender 15th February 2004
Once the North Eastern contingent had headed back up the M1, I decided we needed a new tripod - I'd used Keith's good tripod at the Rescue Rooms last night, it had been just the job. However I didn't think he'd be so keen on it going down to Northampton / up to Scotland / wherever the video ladies were needed. Also it was quite big and heavy. So I headed off to Argos and bought a cheap, light-weight one which came with its own handy carrying case!!
Lizzy got back from her epic journey late afternoon, a quick bite to eat and then we're off to Northampton - me driving, so that means not much drinking. I used to travel to Northampton quite frequently in a previous job, its not a bad journey of about 70 miles. After a bit of a detour we find the venue which looks a bit like a 70s municipal leisure centre. We head for the door - Bent has been good to his word and our names are on the list - and we have press/photo passes! We're in - and its not as bad inside as the outside had suggested.
Again, Lizzy wrote up a cracking diary at the time so I won't repeat all of the details. The camera arrives with Arthur, and Arthur doesn't arrive until much before the band are due on stage - he is the star after all. I do some waiting around while Lizzy minds our spot on the balcony, and Bent finally brings me the camera with the message from Arthur "Make sure you label the tapes". Yessir Arthur, we will, we've even brought a pen - and a torch, which we realised was a necessity after yesterday's fumblings at the Rescue Rooms.
No after show kebabs this time, for one thing we need to drive all the way back to Nottingham and Lizzy has to be up extra early in the morning to get to Newcastle for 9am. We do hang round for a while and have a quick chat with Mike and Rusty - Rusty is wearing a sharp suit on stage today instead of his usual black jacket, I tell him he looks good in it and he seems quite embarrassed - he's a sensitive soul and not your usual swaggering rock god type.
Drive back towards the M1, I nearly drive straight across a roundabout instead of round it, we survive that and make our way back to Chateau Yourmindandwe on a very quiet M1 at midnight on Sunday night.
Lizzy got back from her epic journey late afternoon, a quick bite to eat and then we're off to Northampton - me driving, so that means not much drinking. I used to travel to Northampton quite frequently in a previous job, its not a bad journey of about 70 miles. After a bit of a detour we find the venue which looks a bit like a 70s municipal leisure centre. We head for the door - Bent has been good to his word and our names are on the list - and we have press/photo passes! We're in - and its not as bad inside as the outside had suggested.
Again, Lizzy wrote up a cracking diary at the time so I won't repeat all of the details. The camera arrives with Arthur, and Arthur doesn't arrive until much before the band are due on stage - he is the star after all. I do some waiting around while Lizzy minds our spot on the balcony, and Bent finally brings me the camera with the message from Arthur "Make sure you label the tapes". Yessir Arthur, we will, we've even brought a pen - and a torch, which we realised was a necessity after yesterday's fumblings at the Rescue Rooms.
No after show kebabs this time, for one thing we need to drive all the way back to Nottingham and Lizzy has to be up extra early in the morning to get to Newcastle for 9am. We do hang round for a while and have a quick chat with Mike and Rusty - Rusty is wearing a sharp suit on stage today instead of his usual black jacket, I tell him he looks good in it and he seems quite embarrassed - he's a sensitive soul and not your usual swaggering rock god type.
Drive back towards the M1, I nearly drive straight across a roundabout instead of round it, we survive that and make our way back to Chateau Yourmindandwe on a very quiet M1 at midnight on Sunday night.
No 6: Rescue Rooms, Nottingham, 14th February 2004
The first show of the tour for us was to be the Rescue Rooms in Nottingham on Valentines Day, 2004. Lizzy, Chris and their daughter Ellie, together with Scottish Keith, were all coming down from the North East to stay at our house before going to the gig on Saturday night. Gill and Colin were coming up from Essex and we had arranged to meet up with them in the Bell again.
Now Mike has a friend and neighbour in LA, the New Guy (TNG) who had been filming various US gigs for Arthur's personal use. TNG, and by association Arthur, was keen for as many of the UK shows to be filmed as possible. Lizzy, who is much more of a technophile than me, had been asked if she could get involved in this, so she was bringing her video camera along to the show in an official capacity. I put our tripod in the back of the car and we set off - the place where I work is very near the Rescue Rooms so we parked there and then strolled down to the Bell and met up with Gill and Colin.
Gig time approached and we headed for the Rescue Rooms - the first person we saw was Mike, talking on his mobile phone outside in the courtyard. We had a quick chat and he told us that Bent, the tour manager was looking for Lizzy re the videoing - she was on the guest list!
Lizzy has written a great diary about the gig so rather than repeat everything that happened that extraordinary night, I've put a link to it. All I can say is - we weren't expecting to be using Arthur's video camera, we were completely stunned when it arrived - and when you opened the bag it did smell of roses... Taking the camera back after the gig, I did the old "Can I have an autograph for my friend" trick again - this time for my old pal Paul, a long time Love fan, who happened to be there with his wife Pam that evening.
After the obligatory kebab with Mike from the Antalya on Upper Parliament Street - we were all back to the band's hotel, the Strathdon, for a few drinks. It was here that were to meet the crew properly for the first time - all Danes, these were people who were to become great pals over the next few weeks and months. First off there was Bent, the tour manager, who'd seen it all, done it all - and got the t-shirt. Then there was Kose, the (partially deaf) sound guy - more about him later. Then there was the lovely Troels - now Troels is about 6 foot 4 inches tall, a sort of a coffee colour, and has waist length dreadlocks - and, we later learned, an identical twin brother! We spent some time chatting with them, although at this juncture Troels was sticking to his native Danish and Bent was translating - we later discovered that Troels had a pretty good grasp of English.
After a few beers, Lizzy and I decided that, despite previous decisions not to, we had to go to Northampton the next evening... this would involve Lizzy driving all the way back from Nottingham to Newcastle on Sunday to take her family back home, then back to Nottingham, and then driving on to Northampton. Bent would arrange for us to have press passes. It was to be the start of our brilliant careers as rock legend videoers (is that a proper word??)
The Disco compilation goes Stateside - December 2003
Shortly after my birthday, Mike posts a diary entry about an incident from the 70s and his love of the BeeGees music - we're emailing each other quite regularly by this time. I tell him I've got this killer disco compilation, he's keen to have a copy so I duly burn him a CD which is despatched to West Hollywood, and much appreciated.
The other news around this time is that there is going to be big - and I mean big - Love UK and European tour in early 2004. Its due to start early February and go on until April, visiting pretty much the length and breadth of the UK. There's going to be a show in Nottingham on February 14th and the week following that. a good week for both Lizzy and I to take off work, they're in Scotland and the North of England. The girls are going to go on tour.
The other news around this time is that there is going to be big - and I mean big - Love UK and European tour in early 2004. Its due to start early February and go on until April, visiting pretty much the length and breadth of the UK. There's going to be a show in Nottingham on February 14th and the week following that. a good week for both Lizzy and I to take off work, they're in Scotland and the North of England. The girls are going to go on tour.
Saturday, March 05, 2005
NLR: My 50th Birthday 27th November 2003
Another birthday, another party...
Friends and relations are summoned from far and wide - Lizzy and Chris are coming down from Newcastle, my two sisters are coming over from Hull and my brother is coming up from London.
Mrs Matheru, the samosa lady from Sneinton, does a wonderful job of the food. Castle Rock Brewery does a wonderful job of the beer. And its me sorting out the music again....
By this time I reckon I've come up with the definitive cheesy disco collection - and this is it:
1. Jacksons – Blame it on the Boogie
2. Trammps – Disco Inferno
3. Wild Cherry – Play that Funky Music White Boy
4. Kool and the Gang – Get down on it
5. Rose Royce – Car Wash
6. Chic – Good Times
7. Pointer Sisters – Jump for your love
8. KC and the Sunshine Band – Get Down Tonight
9. Hues Corporation – Rock the Boat
10. Gap Band – Oops upside your head
11. Kool and the Gang – Celebration
12. Heatwave – Boogie Nights
13. Gibson Brothers – Cuba
14. Emotions - Best of my Love
15. Beegees – Stayin Alive
16. Supremes – You can’t hurry Love
17. Stevie Wonder – Superstition
18. Chic – Le Freak
19. Diana Ross – Upside Down
20. McFadden & Whitehead – Ain’t no stoppin’ us now
Friends and relations are summoned from far and wide - Lizzy and Chris are coming down from Newcastle, my two sisters are coming over from Hull and my brother is coming up from London.
Mrs Matheru, the samosa lady from Sneinton, does a wonderful job of the food. Castle Rock Brewery does a wonderful job of the beer. And its me sorting out the music again....
By this time I reckon I've come up with the definitive cheesy disco collection - and this is it:
1. Jacksons – Blame it on the Boogie
2. Trammps – Disco Inferno
3. Wild Cherry – Play that Funky Music White Boy
4. Kool and the Gang – Get down on it
5. Rose Royce – Car Wash
6. Chic – Good Times
7. Pointer Sisters – Jump for your love
8. KC and the Sunshine Band – Get Down Tonight
9. Hues Corporation – Rock the Boat
10. Gap Band – Oops upside your head
11. Kool and the Gang – Celebration
12. Heatwave – Boogie Nights
13. Gibson Brothers – Cuba
14. Emotions - Best of my Love
15. Beegees – Stayin Alive
16. Supremes – You can’t hurry Love
17. Stevie Wonder – Superstition
18. Chic – Le Freak
19. Diana Ross – Upside Down
20. McFadden & Whitehead – Ain’t no stoppin’ us now
Friday, March 04, 2005
NLR: Jim goes off to University 5th October 2003
This was the day I had been dreading for a long time - my only child, fruit of my womb, was leaving home to go to University in York. The empty nest syndrome as its called, it had had me behaving strangely for some time and sometimes I think the whole Love thang was transference behaviour.
The previous weeks had been spent buying bedding, kettles, crockery and cutlery etc plus ensuring that Jim was kitted out in suitable student style, i.e. more a less a t-shirt for each day of term, as clothes washing is not a speciality. The car was packed to the roof and we were off to York, about 90 miles or so away so not exactly the ends of the earth. We joined the procession of similarly laden vehicles on the York ring road and there we were, Vanbrugh College, Jim's new home - only for 10 weeks initially mind you, he was planning to come home for Christmas. Keith, Jim and I unloaded the car and started to get the room into some semblance of order, bed making etc ... then there's a knock on the door.. "Hi, I'm James, I'm in the room across the corridor"... and he was off. We said hasty goodbyes and left him to it, this was Jim's day not ours after all.
Back in the car and back round the ring road - I'm saying things like " They seemed like nice people" and "The room was a bit small wasn't it"... and I look over at Keith and he's in floods of tears. He's been the one who's been telling me its going to be all right etc, when I've been going bonkers over the last 12 months or so. Looks like I'd come to terms with it already and Keith has just realised the enormity of what has just happened......but that doesn't mean its not going to be all right.
The previous weeks had been spent buying bedding, kettles, crockery and cutlery etc plus ensuring that Jim was kitted out in suitable student style, i.e. more a less a t-shirt for each day of term, as clothes washing is not a speciality. The car was packed to the roof and we were off to York, about 90 miles or so away so not exactly the ends of the earth. We joined the procession of similarly laden vehicles on the York ring road and there we were, Vanbrugh College, Jim's new home - only for 10 weeks initially mind you, he was planning to come home for Christmas. Keith, Jim and I unloaded the car and started to get the room into some semblance of order, bed making etc ... then there's a knock on the door.. "Hi, I'm James, I'm in the room across the corridor"... and he was off. We said hasty goodbyes and left him to it, this was Jim's day not ours after all.
Back in the car and back round the ring road - I'm saying things like " They seemed like nice people" and "The room was a bit small wasn't it"... and I look over at Keith and he's in floods of tears. He's been the one who's been telling me its going to be all right etc, when I've been going bonkers over the last 12 months or so. Looks like I'd come to terms with it already and Keith has just realised the enormity of what has just happened......but that doesn't mean its not going to be all right.
Thursday, March 03, 2005
A Supermarket in California - Allen Ginsberg
A Supermarket in California
What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman, for I walked down the side streets under the trees with a headache self-conscious looking at the full moon.
In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went into the neon fruit supermarket, dreaming of your enumerations!
What peaches and what penumbras! Whole families shopping at night! Aisles full of husbands! Wives in the avocados, babies in the tomatoes!--and you, Garcia Lorca, what were you doing down by the watermelons?
I saw you, Walt Whitman, childless, lonely old grubber, poking among the meats in the refrigerator and eyeing the grocery boys.
I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed the pork chops? What price bananas? Are you my Angel?
I wandered in and out of the brilliant stacks of cans following you, and followed in my imagination by the store detective.
We strode down the open corridors together in our solitary fancy tasting artichokes, possessing every frozen delicacy, and never passing the cashier.
Where are we going, Walt Whitman? The doors close in an hour. Which way does your beard point tonight?
(I touch your book and dream of our odyssey in the supermarket and feel absurd.)
Will we walk all night through solitary streets? The trees add shade to shade, lights out in the houses,we'll both be lonely.
Will we stroll dreaming of the lost America of love past blue automobiles in driveways, home to our silent cottage?
Ah, dear father, graybeard, lonely old courage-teacher, what America did you have when Charon quit poling his ferry and you got out on a smoking bank and stood watching the boat disappear on the black waters of Lethe?
Allen Ginsberg
Footnote: I was reminded of this poem when Lizzy and I were wandering around the wonderful Wild Oats Supermarket in Santa Monica, California - it put every English supermarket I've ever been in to shame. We saw Allen Ginsberg give a poetry reading in Newcastle probably about 1971, including this poem - he was like a little bearded gnome and his drawling style of reading was mesmeric. When I looked for the poem back in the UK, I found it a boxed set, Penguin Modern Poets 1-6, with the inscription:
" Tina Lyall, Prize for English, Whitley Bay Grammar School 1970".
Q. How much poetry have I read since 1970? A. Not a lot.
What thoughts I have of you tonight, Walt Whitman, for I walked down the side streets under the trees with a headache self-conscious looking at the full moon.
In my hungry fatigue, and shopping for images, I went into the neon fruit supermarket, dreaming of your enumerations!
What peaches and what penumbras! Whole families shopping at night! Aisles full of husbands! Wives in the avocados, babies in the tomatoes!--and you, Garcia Lorca, what were you doing down by the watermelons?
I saw you, Walt Whitman, childless, lonely old grubber, poking among the meats in the refrigerator and eyeing the grocery boys.
I heard you asking questions of each: Who killed the pork chops? What price bananas? Are you my Angel?
I wandered in and out of the brilliant stacks of cans following you, and followed in my imagination by the store detective.
We strode down the open corridors together in our solitary fancy tasting artichokes, possessing every frozen delicacy, and never passing the cashier.
Where are we going, Walt Whitman? The doors close in an hour. Which way does your beard point tonight?
(I touch your book and dream of our odyssey in the supermarket and feel absurd.)
Will we walk all night through solitary streets? The trees add shade to shade, lights out in the houses,we'll both be lonely.
Will we stroll dreaming of the lost America of love past blue automobiles in driveways, home to our silent cottage?
Ah, dear father, graybeard, lonely old courage-teacher, what America did you have when Charon quit poling his ferry and you got out on a smoking bank and stood watching the boat disappear on the black waters of Lethe?
Allen Ginsberg
Footnote: I was reminded of this poem when Lizzy and I were wandering around the wonderful Wild Oats Supermarket in Santa Monica, California - it put every English supermarket I've ever been in to shame. We saw Allen Ginsberg give a poetry reading in Newcastle probably about 1971, including this poem - he was like a little bearded gnome and his drawling style of reading was mesmeric. When I looked for the poem back in the UK, I found it a boxed set, Penguin Modern Poets 1-6, with the inscription:
" Tina Lyall, Prize for English, Whitley Bay Grammar School 1970".
Q. How much poetry have I read since 1970? A. Not a lot.
Non-Love Related (NLR): Steve and Wendy's Silver Wedding 30th August 2003
Steve and Wendy are good friends of ours in Nottingham, we've known them for 28 years or so since Keith and Steve were both training as teachers at Nottingham University. Its their Silver Wedding and they're throwing a big party at home - somewhat surprisingly the first party they've ever held. Keith and I are famed as party animals and have thrown parties at every conceivable opportunity since we've known each other - perhaps that's why Steve and Wendy never have before! They've bought the booze, booked a caterer and I have been commissioned to be i/c music for the evening!! Wendy has given me a list of some of their fave tunes, the ones that have special meaning for them, to help me on my way (Martha and the Muffins?? whats that all about??)
Now, I'm a bit of a disco diva - in my younger days I used to haunt the 70s night at the Black Orchid on Nottingham's Ring Road, Disco Inferno, complete with resident DJ Disco Dick, strutting my funky stuff to Tavares, the BeeGees, Trammps and other such cheesy rubbish. Now, cheesy that sort of stuff might be, but from my advanced age I can tell you, it gets everybody of every age up and dancing! So with the much appreciated technical assistance of Jim I put together a few CDs, one or two of the meaningful stuff but also a couple of ripsnorting Disco collections to get the grannies up and bopping.
Its a great night, Steve and Wendy have gathered a lot of their old friends together and everybody is having a good time. Late in the evening I get stuck into the CD player with some serious Disco action and they're all doing the actions to "Blame it on the Boogie" and "YMCA", and sitting down rowing (i.e. performing the action of rowing a boat rather than arguing) to "Whoops upside your head". Hey, I'm enjoying this - perhaps a new career as a disc spinner beckons...
Now, I'm a bit of a disco diva - in my younger days I used to haunt the 70s night at the Black Orchid on Nottingham's Ring Road, Disco Inferno, complete with resident DJ Disco Dick, strutting my funky stuff to Tavares, the BeeGees, Trammps and other such cheesy rubbish. Now, cheesy that sort of stuff might be, but from my advanced age I can tell you, it gets everybody of every age up and dancing! So with the much appreciated technical assistance of Jim I put together a few CDs, one or two of the meaningful stuff but also a couple of ripsnorting Disco collections to get the grannies up and bopping.
Its a great night, Steve and Wendy have gathered a lot of their old friends together and everybody is having a good time. Late in the evening I get stuck into the CD player with some serious Disco action and they're all doing the actions to "Blame it on the Boogie" and "YMCA", and sitting down rowing (i.e. performing the action of rowing a boat rather than arguing) to "Whoops upside your head". Hey, I'm enjoying this - perhaps a new career as a disc spinner beckons...
Wednesday, March 02, 2005
No 5. Canterbury Fayre 23rd - 24th August 2003
Having decided earlier in the year that we were too old for Glastonbury (!), a nice little festival comes along that we 49 year olds feel a bit more comfortable with. Its at Mount Ephraim near Canterbury, August Bank Holiday weekend, Robert Plant is headlining Saturday and Love are headlining Sunday - Hooray! We book weekend tickets.
Now I'm more of your five star hotel sort of a gel than your tent sort of a gel, so I get on the internet and find a nice Express by Holiday Inn (wot no Thistle) on the Canterbury bypass, the nearest hotel with more than three rooms - two rooms are booked, one for Lizzy and Chris and one for me and Joan, Lizzy's cousin who again I haven't seen for twenty plus years.
August dawns and the big news is that Jim has done well in his A levels and is off to his first choice, York University, to study Chemistry. Much celebrating in the yourmindandwe household.
A week or so later, early Saturday morning I'm driving off to Canterbury. Down the M1, swift circumnavigation of the M25, head off across Kent (which looks very nice) and into the Express by Holiday Inn to await the rest of the party who are travelling down from Newcastle/Scotland. I join the queue at Reception to check in - the chaps in front of me are Scandinavian, in fact one of them looks suspiciously like Bjorn, the Swedish trombone player I took a shine to in Manchester. The other one, a careworn Dane who I will later learn is Bent, the tour manager, is arguing with the reception clerk about why the room is not ready for Mr Lee..... Effing Hell, I've only gone and booked us into the same hotel as the band... I quickly text Lizzy to tell her the news, she's somewhere near Luton and will be with me as soon as humanly possible.
Lizzy and Chris arrive, followed shortly after by Joan who's driven all the way from Perth (Scotland not Australia). We quickly get reacquainted, after all we are sharing a room, and she tells me everything thats happened to her in the intervening twenty odd years - living in Sweden, running a pub, marriage, three kids, divorce, not having a s**g for the last 10 years (10 years!!), some cow at work who's made her life a misery etc etc - makes my 20 odd years of marriage, most of that time doing the same job and living in the same house seem a bit humdrum - hey ho! Bit less than 10 years for me however, she asks me how long and I have to admit its more like 10 hours.
We head off for the festival site, its about 3 miles away. We are directed onto the overflow parking/camping site , the cricket pitch, which is very pleasant. We have a day tent - very civilised - which is duly pitched - somewhere to keep the beer etc, and to shelter if it rains. Recollections of Saturday are a bit vague but it is real hippy heaven here - I feel like I've been transported back about 35 years. We listen to Roy Harper from the cricket pitch, and then go down to the stage and watch the Incredible String Band who Lizzy and I saw at Newcastle City Hall in about 1969 - they have dated a great deal! The main event however is Robert Plant and his new band, and they are excellent -really rocking. They finish off with Whole Lotta Love and we repair to the hotel happy bunnies.
We sit in the downstairs bar/lounge area of the hotel to watch the football - Joan is feeling tired so she's off to bed. In a short while a big people-carrier with blacked out windows arrives - its Robert Plant and his lady - I say Hello and he says Hello back (couldn't I have thought of something more original!!). Shortly after that the same van is back again - and its the band, sans Arthur. We start talking to Mike and Rusty - Mike is hungry, there's no food available at the hotel, so kebabs are mentioned. Now Lizzy and Chris have a little two seater sports car, I have a great big car, we discuss things amongst ourselves, am I sober enough to drive into Canterbury for kebabs?? - I decide I am and Lizzy, Chris, Mike and me are heading off to Canterbury in search of an ever open Kebab house (it is about 1am by now). We park up somewhere near the Cathedral, ask some passing locals where we should go, and we're there. Now Mike has peroxide dreadlocks and a Californian accent - he stands out a bit in downtown Kent. We have some slightly odd conversations with the rest of the clientele of the Kebab House, then its off for a little walk around Canterbury to see some sights (i.e. the Cathedral again and the Canterbury Tales amusement arcade) then its back to the hotel. Mike falls asleep in the front seat of the car while we're driving back, we wake him up when we arrive and everybody's off to bed, ready for another busy day tomorrow.
Sunday dawns - we're due to meet with Scottish Keith. He's rung to ask if we can get some beer in - another drive to Canterbury, a supermarket is traced and copious quantities of beer, cranberry juice and food are purchased - we already have gin, tonic and lemons and I've got a flask full of ice from the hotel ice machine just to be on the safe side. Then its off to the site again - our tent is still there so we get settled in. SK comes up to the cricket pitch to meet us, he's with Dukie, Hannah and Miranda - we get quite a party together which SK has detailed at some length (see link) so I won't go into all the details again - needless to say we were all having a great time. Now Hannah has been emailing back and forth with Mike Randle but has never met him before today - she's a very nice young lady in her early twenties - she gets stuck into our gin and SK's vodka and by the time she gets to meet Mike later in the day she is seriously plastered. Now as this story unfolds you, dear reader, will come to learn that Hannah is now Mike's "significant other" - when Lizzy and I were in LA recently and met up with Mike, he was quoting back things to me that I said to Hannah on that afternoon, so I must have made an impression!
A quick recuperative sleep and then we're down to the front of the stage to see the Buzzcocks followed by Love. Now, I unlike some of my party was always a big Buzzcocks fan - they give a great performance and we all pogo about like mad. Then Love come on, with orchestra and light show, fantastic performance again. Afterwards we all congregate at the sangria tent, Mike joins us and as described in Scottish Keith's diary, we have a bit of a sing song. Back to the hotel to sleep this time, no midnight kebab trips tonight.
Next morning, Joan and I get up and go down for breakfast. Mike is sitting near the bar looking a bit worse for wear - he did a bit more drinking after we left him. We take our seats when who should we see walking towards the breakfast area but Arthur Lee, looking very cool in his trademark shades, accompanied by Bent the tour manager. I look and smile and Joan and I whisper and giggle with each other like a couple of school girls - then he comes over to our table... I utter the immortal line " Arthur, you're looking cooler than any man deserves to at this time of the morning" - cringeworthy or what. Never mind, he seems quite flattered, asks us if we were at the show last night and did we enjoy it, we say we were and we did and he goes back to his seat looking quite pleased with himself. Joan and I are beside ourselves with excitement, Lizzy and Chris come down to join us and we titter our way through breakfast.
Time to leave - we check out and Arthur is sitting in reception reading a paper, wearing normal prescription specs now, not shades - he looks almost like a normal human being rather than a rock god. We say our goodbyes, shake him by the hand and he thanks us for coming. I head back to Nottingham feeling like I've died and gone to heaven.
Now I'm more of your five star hotel sort of a gel than your tent sort of a gel, so I get on the internet and find a nice Express by Holiday Inn (wot no Thistle) on the Canterbury bypass, the nearest hotel with more than three rooms - two rooms are booked, one for Lizzy and Chris and one for me and Joan, Lizzy's cousin who again I haven't seen for twenty plus years.
August dawns and the big news is that Jim has done well in his A levels and is off to his first choice, York University, to study Chemistry. Much celebrating in the yourmindandwe household.
A week or so later, early Saturday morning I'm driving off to Canterbury. Down the M1, swift circumnavigation of the M25, head off across Kent (which looks very nice) and into the Express by Holiday Inn to await the rest of the party who are travelling down from Newcastle/Scotland. I join the queue at Reception to check in - the chaps in front of me are Scandinavian, in fact one of them looks suspiciously like Bjorn, the Swedish trombone player I took a shine to in Manchester. The other one, a careworn Dane who I will later learn is Bent, the tour manager, is arguing with the reception clerk about why the room is not ready for Mr Lee..... Effing Hell, I've only gone and booked us into the same hotel as the band... I quickly text Lizzy to tell her the news, she's somewhere near Luton and will be with me as soon as humanly possible.
Lizzy and Chris arrive, followed shortly after by Joan who's driven all the way from Perth (Scotland not Australia). We quickly get reacquainted, after all we are sharing a room, and she tells me everything thats happened to her in the intervening twenty odd years - living in Sweden, running a pub, marriage, three kids, divorce, not having a s**g for the last 10 years (10 years!!), some cow at work who's made her life a misery etc etc - makes my 20 odd years of marriage, most of that time doing the same job and living in the same house seem a bit humdrum - hey ho! Bit less than 10 years for me however, she asks me how long and I have to admit its more like 10 hours.
We head off for the festival site, its about 3 miles away. We are directed onto the overflow parking/camping site , the cricket pitch, which is very pleasant. We have a day tent - very civilised - which is duly pitched - somewhere to keep the beer etc, and to shelter if it rains. Recollections of Saturday are a bit vague but it is real hippy heaven here - I feel like I've been transported back about 35 years. We listen to Roy Harper from the cricket pitch, and then go down to the stage and watch the Incredible String Band who Lizzy and I saw at Newcastle City Hall in about 1969 - they have dated a great deal! The main event however is Robert Plant and his new band, and they are excellent -really rocking. They finish off with Whole Lotta Love and we repair to the hotel happy bunnies.
We sit in the downstairs bar/lounge area of the hotel to watch the football - Joan is feeling tired so she's off to bed. In a short while a big people-carrier with blacked out windows arrives - its Robert Plant and his lady - I say Hello and he says Hello back (couldn't I have thought of something more original!!). Shortly after that the same van is back again - and its the band, sans Arthur. We start talking to Mike and Rusty - Mike is hungry, there's no food available at the hotel, so kebabs are mentioned. Now Lizzy and Chris have a little two seater sports car, I have a great big car, we discuss things amongst ourselves, am I sober enough to drive into Canterbury for kebabs?? - I decide I am and Lizzy, Chris, Mike and me are heading off to Canterbury in search of an ever open Kebab house (it is about 1am by now). We park up somewhere near the Cathedral, ask some passing locals where we should go, and we're there. Now Mike has peroxide dreadlocks and a Californian accent - he stands out a bit in downtown Kent. We have some slightly odd conversations with the rest of the clientele of the Kebab House, then its off for a little walk around Canterbury to see some sights (i.e. the Cathedral again and the Canterbury Tales amusement arcade) then its back to the hotel. Mike falls asleep in the front seat of the car while we're driving back, we wake him up when we arrive and everybody's off to bed, ready for another busy day tomorrow.
Sunday dawns - we're due to meet with Scottish Keith. He's rung to ask if we can get some beer in - another drive to Canterbury, a supermarket is traced and copious quantities of beer, cranberry juice and food are purchased - we already have gin, tonic and lemons and I've got a flask full of ice from the hotel ice machine just to be on the safe side. Then its off to the site again - our tent is still there so we get settled in. SK comes up to the cricket pitch to meet us, he's with Dukie, Hannah and Miranda - we get quite a party together which SK has detailed at some length (see link) so I won't go into all the details again - needless to say we were all having a great time. Now Hannah has been emailing back and forth with Mike Randle but has never met him before today - she's a very nice young lady in her early twenties - she gets stuck into our gin and SK's vodka and by the time she gets to meet Mike later in the day she is seriously plastered. Now as this story unfolds you, dear reader, will come to learn that Hannah is now Mike's "significant other" - when Lizzy and I were in LA recently and met up with Mike, he was quoting back things to me that I said to Hannah on that afternoon, so I must have made an impression!
A quick recuperative sleep and then we're down to the front of the stage to see the Buzzcocks followed by Love. Now, I unlike some of my party was always a big Buzzcocks fan - they give a great performance and we all pogo about like mad. Then Love come on, with orchestra and light show, fantastic performance again. Afterwards we all congregate at the sangria tent, Mike joins us and as described in Scottish Keith's diary, we have a bit of a sing song. Back to the hotel to sleep this time, no midnight kebab trips tonight.
Next morning, Joan and I get up and go down for breakfast. Mike is sitting near the bar looking a bit worse for wear - he did a bit more drinking after we left him. We take our seats when who should we see walking towards the breakfast area but Arthur Lee, looking very cool in his trademark shades, accompanied by Bent the tour manager. I look and smile and Joan and I whisper and giggle with each other like a couple of school girls - then he comes over to our table... I utter the immortal line " Arthur, you're looking cooler than any man deserves to at this time of the morning" - cringeworthy or what. Never mind, he seems quite flattered, asks us if we were at the show last night and did we enjoy it, we say we were and we did and he goes back to his seat looking quite pleased with himself. Joan and I are beside ourselves with excitement, Lizzy and Chris come down to join us and we titter our way through breakfast.
Time to leave - we check out and Arthur is sitting in reception reading a paper, wearing normal prescription specs now, not shades - he looks almost like a normal human being rather than a rock god. We say our goodbyes, shake him by the hand and he thanks us for coming. I head back to Nottingham feeling like I've died and gone to heaven.
Tuesday, March 01, 2005
No 4. Rock City, Nottingham, Ist July 2003
After what seems like an awfully long gap, the news is out that Love are coming back over to the UK in the summer for Glastonbury and a few selected gigs, including one in Nottingham, my home town. Oh joy unconfined!
I don't feel up for Glastonbury, I feel that would be pushing it too far, but I do stay up to watch the television coverage - and there, in the middle of the night, are Arthur and the guys, including the Swedes,and they are wonderful. Can't wait for Rock City.
On the day of the gig, I picked Lizzy up from Newark Station - back to my house then into town with my husband Keith for a rendezvous with a number of other fans at the Bell in the Old Market Square. Mike Randle was there, selling copies of a demo CD, so I shelled out a fiver for one. Gill and her husband Colin were there, as well as Aake from Sweden, Martyn from South Africa (some folks travel a long way to see Love) Dave from Nottingham, and a chap from Hertfordshire called Pierre who ws drawn to Lizzy's jacket (see picture). Scottish Keith arrived later from Darlington with a friend, so there were quite a gang of us before we set off to Rock City, Mike having already left to do what he had to do. We managed to get very close to the front so had a brilliant view. A wonderful gig again, no orchestra but all of the band in remarkably good form. Arthur seemed really happy and was joking with the crowd, he seemed the most relaxed of the gigs that I'd seen to date. Downstairs to the basement bar when the show was over, Mike came down to join us for a chat and a beer but Keith was keen to get home so it was back to ours in a taxi.
I don't feel up for Glastonbury, I feel that would be pushing it too far, but I do stay up to watch the television coverage - and there, in the middle of the night, are Arthur and the guys, including the Swedes,and they are wonderful. Can't wait for Rock City.
On the day of the gig, I picked Lizzy up from Newark Station - back to my house then into town with my husband Keith for a rendezvous with a number of other fans at the Bell in the Old Market Square. Mike Randle was there, selling copies of a demo CD, so I shelled out a fiver for one. Gill and her husband Colin were there, as well as Aake from Sweden, Martyn from South Africa (some folks travel a long way to see Love) Dave from Nottingham, and a chap from Hertfordshire called Pierre who ws drawn to Lizzy's jacket (see picture). Scottish Keith arrived later from Darlington with a friend, so there were quite a gang of us before we set off to Rock City, Mike having already left to do what he had to do. We managed to get very close to the front so had a brilliant view. A wonderful gig again, no orchestra but all of the band in remarkably good form. Arthur seemed really happy and was joking with the crowd, he seemed the most relaxed of the gigs that I'd seen to date. Downstairs to the basement bar when the show was over, Mike came down to join us for a chat and a beer but Keith was keen to get home so it was back to ours in a taxi.
Saturday, February 26, 2005
No 3. The Scala, London, 31st March 2003 (as Andmoreagains)
By this time Lizzy had introduced me to Love on the internet - both the official tour site and also a fantastic site run by a dedicated Danish fan, Torben. I started getting involved in the message board and via the sites we also got to know about a "secret" gig that was being staged in London, under the Andmoreagains name rather than Love. We decided we had to go, and booked into the Kings Cross aka Islington Thistle (why do we always stay in Thistles??) - the venue was within about 100 yards of Kings Cross station and the hotel was handy both for Kings X for Lizzy and St Pancras for me. I arranged to take the following morning off work as well but had to be back in the afternoon because I had a big work social event in Nottingham the following evening (which also meant I had to make sure I didn't drink too much!!).
We arrived early evening, and had a few drinks and something to eat in the not very salubrious neighbourhood of the venue. We then queued up to go in to the Scala and Lizzy spotted Gill, who she had met at previous gigs and who we would subsequently share lots of good times with over the coming months. The Scala is a converted cinema, a nice set up - it wasn't completely full and we settled near the front on steps near the side walls during the support act. Mike and Rusty from the band came out from backstage with beers and were watching the support act too - I said hello to Mike having met him in Manchester - he was pleasant and charming and asked how I was, but I don't think he knew me from Adam! A guy in the audience recognised Lizzy and introduced himself as Steve 64 from the Love message board.
Then Love were on...no orchestra this time, just the five piece so a different sort of show from the two previous occasions. Great sound, more rock and roll than psychedelic, and it was good to see the band in a much more intimate setting than the RFH and Manchester gigs. At the end we hung around for a while and Arthur came out on stage - a guy that we have later come to know as John E was up on the stage getting Arthur to sign his record covers and joking with him about wine. This was the nearest I'd ever been to Arthur - I got onto the stage followed by Lizzy who was by now suffering an extreme case of nerves . We stood there in the proximity of Arthur, grinning inanely - more like a pair of awestruck teenagers than a couple of middle aged women with husbands, grown up kids and responsible jobs!! Arthur looked over in our direction and said to me " Excuse me Ma'am, what's your name?" - I told him and said that we had been fans of his for a very long time, and asked if I could have his autograph for my friend (i.e. Lizzy).
Yes, I know, the old "Its not for me its for my friend" routine - why I said that and not just "Can I have your autograph please Arthur" is beyond me, but anyway he took my outstretched piece of paper and wrote "To Lizzy from Arthur Lee " on it. Lizzy still has this somewhere and hopefully treasures it as one of her most precious possessions.
There had been a tall guy with dreadlocks, carrying a young child, visible in the wings throughout the performance - after a while Lizzy and I staggered out onto the streets of Kings Cross, and there was this same guy and child talking to Arthur in the street. We made some "Oh look there's Arthur Lee" type noises which immediately sent Arthur rushing back to the sanctity of backstage - we engaged the guy in conversation and he told us he was an old friend of Arthur's from way back when. Not wanting to get a reputation as stalkers, we made our way back to our hotel via a local kebab house, a habit which was to become quite familiar over the next weeks and months.
We arrived early evening, and had a few drinks and something to eat in the not very salubrious neighbourhood of the venue. We then queued up to go in to the Scala and Lizzy spotted Gill, who she had met at previous gigs and who we would subsequently share lots of good times with over the coming months. The Scala is a converted cinema, a nice set up - it wasn't completely full and we settled near the front on steps near the side walls during the support act. Mike and Rusty from the band came out from backstage with beers and were watching the support act too - I said hello to Mike having met him in Manchester - he was pleasant and charming and asked how I was, but I don't think he knew me from Adam! A guy in the audience recognised Lizzy and introduced himself as Steve 64 from the Love message board.
Then Love were on...no orchestra this time, just the five piece so a different sort of show from the two previous occasions. Great sound, more rock and roll than psychedelic, and it was good to see the band in a much more intimate setting than the RFH and Manchester gigs. At the end we hung around for a while and Arthur came out on stage - a guy that we have later come to know as John E was up on the stage getting Arthur to sign his record covers and joking with him about wine. This was the nearest I'd ever been to Arthur - I got onto the stage followed by Lizzy who was by now suffering an extreme case of nerves . We stood there in the proximity of Arthur, grinning inanely - more like a pair of awestruck teenagers than a couple of middle aged women with husbands, grown up kids and responsible jobs!! Arthur looked over in our direction and said to me " Excuse me Ma'am, what's your name?" - I told him and said that we had been fans of his for a very long time, and asked if I could have his autograph for my friend (i.e. Lizzy).
Yes, I know, the old "Its not for me its for my friend" routine - why I said that and not just "Can I have your autograph please Arthur" is beyond me, but anyway he took my outstretched piece of paper and wrote "To Lizzy from Arthur Lee " on it. Lizzy still has this somewhere and hopefully treasures it as one of her most precious possessions.
There had been a tall guy with dreadlocks, carrying a young child, visible in the wings throughout the performance - after a while Lizzy and I staggered out onto the streets of Kings Cross, and there was this same guy and child talking to Arthur in the street. We made some "Oh look there's Arthur Lee" type noises which immediately sent Arthur rushing back to the sanctity of backstage - we engaged the guy in conversation and he told us he was an old friend of Arthur's from way back when. Not wanting to get a reputation as stalkers, we made our way back to our hotel via a local kebab house, a habit which was to become quite familiar over the next weeks and months.
Friday, February 25, 2005
No 2. Manchester Academy. 25th January 2003
After the triumphant night at the RFH, I just knew I had to see this band again. They were still touring the UK, I knew Lizzy had booked to go and see them in Glasgow but that was a) a lot nearer to where she lived than where I lived b) on an evening which was inconvenient to me from a work point of view. What to do?? After a number of phone calls and emails we came up with the solution - Manchester on Saturday 25th January. Not too bad a drive from either Nottingham or Newcastle, only downside was that as Lizzy's husband Chris wanted to come along as well, he's a pharmacist who works on Saturdays, they couldn't set out until after 6pm. Anyway, tickets were booked, a hotel was found (with some difficulty - we ended up with the last two rooms at the Manchester Thistle) and we were off again. I would point out at this juncture that my husband Keith is not a Love fan, more of your Dylan type, but he has no objection to me going off gallivanting.
I set off driving from Nottingham and arrived at the hotel later afternoon, time for a swim and a sauna in the hotel leisure club. I was in the sauna when I heard a couple of female voices in the changing rooms discussing going to the Love show that evening - later discovered that this was Jane from the Isle of Man and her daughter who Lizzy already knew. Got myself ready, went down to the hotel bar for a snack and a lager or three and waited for the Newcastle contingent to arrive - which they duly did at about 8.30pm.
Lizzy and Chris swiftly unpacked and we piled into a taxi to the Academy, which is on the Oxford Road near the main part of Manchester University. Our tickets were on the door, we were in - the support act had just finished so we grabbed a few more beers then made our way down to the front. Now this wasn't one of your arty-farty sitting down venues like the RFH, this was more in the style of Nottingham's Rock City, a big barn of a place, sticky floor, unpleasant bouncers, the works. It took me back I can tell you to a simpler place and time - here I was at age 49 in a venue the likes of which I hadn't stepped inside for at least 20 years - since about the time that parenthood had ensued in fact - and I was loving every minute of it!! The aforementioned Scottish Keith was in attendance, as well as some folks that Lizzy knew from her work. There was also a chap with a big stick dancing down the front who may or not have been Bez, erstwhile Happy Monday's mad dancer and subsequently an unlikely Celebrity Big Brother winner - whatever, Bez was certainly around.
The show? - well, it was amazing, I was completely knocked out. The RFH had been a very emotional experience but this was just raw energy from beginning to end. Arthur's voice was unbelievable, the band were giving it all they had, and we had the young Swedish strings and horns section (whose subsequent claim to fame was playing on the Smile tour/album) playing on the Forever Changes tracks just to top it off. I couldn't believe a gig could be this good, I was overwhelmed - which might have been something to do with the numerous lagers that I had consumed by that stage.
Anyway, the end arrives, after a rousing encore of 7and7is, we meet up with SK again and its off for some more beers. Now, by some means unbeknown to me at this stage, it seems that Keith is a pal of Mike Randle, the lead guitarist, so it is arranged that we and sundry others will meet up with Mike and his bandmates at a neighbouring hostelry, Big Hands. We headed off there, paid our admission charge, and we were in. No sign of Mike or any other of the band at this stage but there were plenty of other folks all set to have a good time. After an hour or so, the door opened and there they were - the band members (sans Arthur) and a smattering of Swedes. Now, one thing I can't be accused of is lack of self-confidence and very soon I was chatting away to Californian band members and Swedish horn players as if I'd known them for years - Lizzy was slightly gobsmacked ("you're talking to the band!!") but with a modicum of encouragement she got into it as well. I took a particular shine to Bjorn, the 28 year old trombone player from Stockholm with a fin hairstyle, but alas (or perhaps fortunately) it was not to be!! I must admit I was slightly the worse for drink before the end of the evening, but hey ho, I was reliving my lost youth here. Fortunately Lizzy and Chris were on hand to get us all in a taxi and back to the Thistle at the end of a fantastic night.
I set off driving from Nottingham and arrived at the hotel later afternoon, time for a swim and a sauna in the hotel leisure club. I was in the sauna when I heard a couple of female voices in the changing rooms discussing going to the Love show that evening - later discovered that this was Jane from the Isle of Man and her daughter who Lizzy already knew. Got myself ready, went down to the hotel bar for a snack and a lager or three and waited for the Newcastle contingent to arrive - which they duly did at about 8.30pm.
Lizzy and Chris swiftly unpacked and we piled into a taxi to the Academy, which is on the Oxford Road near the main part of Manchester University. Our tickets were on the door, we were in - the support act had just finished so we grabbed a few more beers then made our way down to the front. Now this wasn't one of your arty-farty sitting down venues like the RFH, this was more in the style of Nottingham's Rock City, a big barn of a place, sticky floor, unpleasant bouncers, the works. It took me back I can tell you to a simpler place and time - here I was at age 49 in a venue the likes of which I hadn't stepped inside for at least 20 years - since about the time that parenthood had ensued in fact - and I was loving every minute of it!! The aforementioned Scottish Keith was in attendance, as well as some folks that Lizzy knew from her work. There was also a chap with a big stick dancing down the front who may or not have been Bez, erstwhile Happy Monday's mad dancer and subsequently an unlikely Celebrity Big Brother winner - whatever, Bez was certainly around.
The show? - well, it was amazing, I was completely knocked out. The RFH had been a very emotional experience but this was just raw energy from beginning to end. Arthur's voice was unbelievable, the band were giving it all they had, and we had the young Swedish strings and horns section (whose subsequent claim to fame was playing on the Smile tour/album) playing on the Forever Changes tracks just to top it off. I couldn't believe a gig could be this good, I was overwhelmed - which might have been something to do with the numerous lagers that I had consumed by that stage.
Anyway, the end arrives, after a rousing encore of 7and7is, we meet up with SK again and its off for some more beers. Now, by some means unbeknown to me at this stage, it seems that Keith is a pal of Mike Randle, the lead guitarist, so it is arranged that we and sundry others will meet up with Mike and his bandmates at a neighbouring hostelry, Big Hands. We headed off there, paid our admission charge, and we were in. No sign of Mike or any other of the band at this stage but there were plenty of other folks all set to have a good time. After an hour or so, the door opened and there they were - the band members (sans Arthur) and a smattering of Swedes. Now, one thing I can't be accused of is lack of self-confidence and very soon I was chatting away to Californian band members and Swedish horn players as if I'd known them for years - Lizzy was slightly gobsmacked ("you're talking to the band!!") but with a modicum of encouragement she got into it as well. I took a particular shine to Bjorn, the 28 year old trombone player from Stockholm with a fin hairstyle, but alas (or perhaps fortunately) it was not to be!! I must admit I was slightly the worse for drink before the end of the evening, but hey ho, I was reliving my lost youth here. Fortunately Lizzy and Chris were on hand to get us all in a taxi and back to the Thistle at the end of a fantastic night.
Thursday, February 24, 2005
No 1. Royal Festival Hall, 15 January 2003
So this was to be my first Love gig. Lizzy and Chris had a spare ticket, Lizzy's cousin Joan, also an old friend from the 60s/70s was due to come down from Scotland but unfortunately she wasn't well. When I was trying to remember the day, I thought that I had worked a full day and then rushed to London on the train - however looking at my diary I took a half day off work and caught the 3.30 train from Nottingham. Lizzy and her husband Chris had told me that they were booked into the Travel Inn at County Hall, it was full when I tried to book so I booked the Charing Cross Thistle on the other side of the Thames, not far over the footbridge. All sort of thoughts going through my head - would I recognise Lizzy, what would I wear??? etc etc. Booked into the hotel and they had given me a very nice room overlooking the London Eye - I'd stayed there for work previously and the rooms they'd given me were always s**tholes, they must treat you better when you're paying yourself.
Solved the what to wear problem by donning my best aging hippy gear - embroidered jeans, bell sleeved t shirt and a sort of afghan type coat (not an original, Designers at Debenhams!!), patchouli type Samsara perfume (more about that later) which I reckoned would be suitable garb - and headed across the bridge to the RFH feeling extraordinarily nervous. What if I couldn't find Lizzy, or worse still, found her but discovered we had absolutely nothing in common? What if Arthur and the band were crap? It didn't bear thinking about...
I arrived at the RFH feeling extremely apprehensive. Wandered around for a while, couldn't see anyone vaguely familiar, however the vibe was good, lots of folks my sort of age as well as lots of younger people. Then rang Lizzy on her mobile, turns out she and Chris are over the other side of the lobby from me, we advance on each other waving our hands in the air for ease of spotting..
and there she is!! She looks very much the same as I remember her, hair still red but shorter - I'm surprised she still has a Geordie accent but then she tells me she has been back in Newcastle for 15 years!! It has been a long time.
Lizzy and Chris have arranged to meet some other folks in the Hungerford Bar upstairs including the aptly named Scottish Keith - I am that long lost friend from 30 years ago mentioned in the link(more like 20 but who's counting). They're a great bunch, we end up talking to Mark Ellen and his cronies from Mojo magazine and start discussing the first single you ever bought (24 Hours from Tulsa by Gene Pitney in my case). Scottish Keith's pal seems to have taken a shine to me and keeps hitting on me (as they say in Hollywood teen flicks) - I put it down to the Samsara (passim). We spend the whole of the support act discussing old times etc and it was great - then its time to take our seats for the main event.
What can I say - I was just completely choked with emotion from the first chords of Seven and Seven is - and then the orchestra come on - and the mariachi trumpet in Aloneagainor just makes me cry and cry - absolutely wonderful. The whole gig was recorded and is available on DVD and CD. Just brilliant from beginning to end.
We weren't sitting with Scottish Keith so at the end of the gig Lizzy tried to raise him on his mobile, to no avail as it was switched off. We learned later that he had blagged a ticket to the after party, as he knew Mike Randle, the lead guitarist of the new Love. So Lizzy, Chris and I headed back over the bridge in search of something to eat, found a handy curry house and spent some more time catching up with 20 years worth of gossip. I staggered back to my hotel room and then they headed back over the bridge - but I had the feeling that this was only the beginning, this would not be the last time......
Solved the what to wear problem by donning my best aging hippy gear - embroidered jeans, bell sleeved t shirt and a sort of afghan type coat (not an original, Designers at Debenhams!!), patchouli type Samsara perfume (more about that later) which I reckoned would be suitable garb - and headed across the bridge to the RFH feeling extraordinarily nervous. What if I couldn't find Lizzy, or worse still, found her but discovered we had absolutely nothing in common? What if Arthur and the band were crap? It didn't bear thinking about...
I arrived at the RFH feeling extremely apprehensive. Wandered around for a while, couldn't see anyone vaguely familiar, however the vibe was good, lots of folks my sort of age as well as lots of younger people. Then rang Lizzy on her mobile, turns out she and Chris are over the other side of the lobby from me, we advance on each other waving our hands in the air for ease of spotting..
and there she is!! She looks very much the same as I remember her, hair still red but shorter - I'm surprised she still has a Geordie accent but then she tells me she has been back in Newcastle for 15 years!! It has been a long time.
Lizzy and Chris have arranged to meet some other folks in the Hungerford Bar upstairs including the aptly named Scottish Keith - I am that long lost friend from 30 years ago mentioned in the link(more like 20 but who's counting). They're a great bunch, we end up talking to Mark Ellen and his cronies from Mojo magazine and start discussing the first single you ever bought (24 Hours from Tulsa by Gene Pitney in my case). Scottish Keith's pal seems to have taken a shine to me and keeps hitting on me (as they say in Hollywood teen flicks) - I put it down to the Samsara (passim). We spend the whole of the support act discussing old times etc and it was great - then its time to take our seats for the main event.
What can I say - I was just completely choked with emotion from the first chords of Seven and Seven is - and then the orchestra come on - and the mariachi trumpet in Aloneagainor just makes me cry and cry - absolutely wonderful. The whole gig was recorded and is available on DVD and CD. Just brilliant from beginning to end.
We weren't sitting with Scottish Keith so at the end of the gig Lizzy tried to raise him on his mobile, to no avail as it was switched off. We learned later that he had blagged a ticket to the after party, as he knew Mike Randle, the lead guitarist of the new Love. So Lizzy, Chris and I headed back over the bridge in search of something to eat, found a handy curry house and spent some more time catching up with 20 years worth of gossip. I staggered back to my hotel room and then they headed back over the bridge - but I had the feeling that this was only the beginning, this would not be the last time......
Wednesday, February 23, 2005
Arthur Lee and Love
Since that fateful day on 15th January 2003 when I met up with my great pal Lizzy again, and saw Love in concert for the first time, we have been on a significant journey and over the course of the next few weeks/months I will endeavour to set down some of the details. It has taken us as far afield as Aberdeen and Los Angeles and various points in between. I have also met my teenage hero Arthur Lee several times and my opinion of him has changed somewhat. I have also made a number of real friends ranged over a large geographical area - and its been great.
Can music save your mortal soul?
Don't know - but I do know that I was just in the kitchen and Ken Bruce on Radio 2 played Aloneagainor - and I was moved, as I always am when it is played unexpectedly on the radio. It touchs parts other music can't reach. The stoic in me forgets that I'm not supposed to be susceptible to overt displays of emotion. What I do know is that music is very important to me - and I feel like my soul could do with a bit of saving at the moment.
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